He kissed harder now, with less thought to my desires.
He wanted to spend every minute together, and frequently after a class I’d be walking across campus and he would appear, having established my routine. He would buy me lunch or coffee or a cupcake and touch me. A lot. The palm on the back, the holding hands, the leaning over and kissing my forehead, my temple, the top of my head, my fingers, hands, lips. In public places like he never had before.
Plans for the future were talked about constantly and I started to feel pressured to set a wedding date. We’d just gotten engaged. I figured the wedding would happen after my graduation, which was eighteen months away. So in two years. We didn’t need a date. We didn’t need a venue. But he insisted we did. And all I could think was that I was starting to wait in anticipation for the next crack to lengthen, for the next random comment or suggestion to come from Ethan, reminding me that he felt threatened.
And I was starting to feel the way I did when he piled the blankets high on top of us in his bed- weighted down. Smothered.
It didn’t help that Heath hadn’t texted me. It had been more than a week and I’d heard no word from him. I found myself darting my gaze around campus, looking for a dark head of hair, anyone not wearing a jacket. Heath didn’t put on a coat until January. But I didn’t see him. He had no reason to be on campus, other than to visit Darla. And Ethan was aware that I was distracted, which made him more clingy. Which drove me to greater distraction. Which made him clingier.
I could feel the tension growing, spreading, and I waited, trying not to wince, for the windshield to shatter and us to have a huge fight.
But we got a break because Ethan had to go to Boston for the weekend for his friend Dan’s birthday party. It had been planned for months and though I could tell he wanted to bail he didn’t have a good reason to, so he packed a bag and left, though he pouted about it.
I couldn’t stand that expression on his face. It was the only time I didn’t think he was hot and super attractive, when he gave me that pinched nose, pulled lip pouty face like he was five and I’d told him he couldn’t have a cookie.
“I don’t want to go,” he whined.
“It will be fun.” He had stopped by my room on his way to meet the group of guys going.
“It would be more fun if you were there.”
“That sort of defeats the purpose of guys’ weekend.”
“What are you going to be doing?” He was hovering in the doorway, leaning on the frame. “Girl stuff?”
“Yes, Aubrey and I are going to give each other bikini waxes.” I was joking, and the look of horror on his face made me laugh. “Kidding! What do men think women do in their free time? Why do you act like we’re so mysterious? I’m going to study for my macroeconomics exam and write a lit paper.”
Leaning forward I gave him a soft kiss. “Go. Your friends will be pissed. Have fun, but not too much fun. I don’t want you coming home with a tattoo you’ll regret.”
He took my hand, still sullen, and rubbed his thumb over the back of my wrist, where I had an infinity tattoo. “Is that how you got this?”
That made my amusement disappear. He had asked about the tattoo before of course and I’d always told him a partial truth. “It wasn’t alcohol. Just teen impulse.”
What it had been was Heath and I taking the ferry to Rockland and spending the day wandering through shops together, having a picnic in the park that I had packed for us. And using some of Heath’s hard-earned money to get matching infinity tattoos on our inner wrists. It was meant to symbolize that we were forever. I had stared at it many times, wondering what he thought when he looked at the permanent mark on his flesh, the eternal reminder of me. For me, it had depended on the day. Sometimes I had been angry, other times sad. Mostly I had looked at it and thought that one part of infinity was correct- I still loved him endlessly.
Maybe he had covered his up. It was a cheesy tattoo for a Marine.
Ethan finally left, reluctantly, and I was alone. I immediately called Tiffany, who had texted me earlier that she had info for me. “Hey, what’s up?”
“So it turns out that most of his online presence is posts or tagged photos from other people. Because he doesn’t have his own accounts, they’re basically buried unless you know how to look for him. I am going to send you some pics of him in Afghanistan looking all military badass. He also seems to frequently be referred to as Private Deprey or as a nickname, Private Depraved.”
That made me curl my lip. “I wonder why? He’s not a creeper.”
“It’s probably just guy talk. Haven’t you ever listened to fishermen talk to each other? It’s insults sprinkled with homophobic jokes. That is what they do.”
“You’re right. But it’s stupid.”
“No one said it isn’t. Just so’s you know, I found no evidence of any relationships with girls. Just references to lap dances on leave.”
“Gross!”
“Again, not surprising. He was in an all male unit deployed to Afghanistan for ten months straight with no women for literally hundreds of miles. I mean, aside from local women who are under lock and key and nine yards of fabric. So they cut it up a little in Thailand. I think it’s to be expected.”
“You are the oddest little creature,” I told her. “You have the reasoning of a thirty-five year old.” I actually meant it as a compliment.
There was a pause. “Yeah. Well. I had to grow up fast. Living in a broken down car at four years old will do that to you.”
I felt immediately guilty. And sorry for her. Which I knew she would hate. “Beauty, brains, and street smarts. You’re the whole package, Tiff.” Which I meant one hundred percent.
She made a sound of amusement. “Sure. That’s me. And because of my size I don’t even require extra postage.”
I laughed. “Good point.”
“I’m hanging up so I can send the pics and because you know I have very limited minutes on this track phone. This data is going to suck the life out of my allowance.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. Oh, and no arrests, traffic tickets, or child support petitions, in case you were wondering.”
It had never occurred to me that he could have a baby. Holy shit. My heart rate jumped, then settled back to normal. “Thank God.”
“What are you going to do, Cat? For real.”